Last Thursday the heat of the afternoon bore down on us in such a wave of intensity I thought this fall weather had made a huge and dramatic turn back to summer.
Terry was gone for the day, having flew out of Montrose for a meeting in Brighton, Colorado; it was up to Boomer and I to check the irrigation and keep the farm running.
It was late in the afternoon; the gnats and mosquitoes were in swarms of carnivorous activity wherever we walked along the ditch bank—- when I felt the cool down from the swiftly moving clouds.
It started sprinkling just before we got back to the house. Then it started to rain.
Not a bad rain, a gentle rain, a moment of relief from the suffocating heat; enough so the sparrows hung out on the wire taking a bath.
Suddenly the sky turned into hail, the birds, Boomer and I scattering. The blows from the hail and the wind silencing everything and everyone as we hunkered down waiting for the end.
Gradually the noise lessened; the air ringing empty—only the canal talking loudly as the water rushed by.
We got an inch of rain from that storm…a mixed blessing, because of the hail.
From my world to your heart,